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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24689848">Going Up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bidness/pseuds/bidness'>bidness</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>11:45 Universe [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>11:45 Universe, Alec Lightwood is Thirsty, Boss Roleplay, Boss!Magnus Bane, Coworkers - Freeform, Cute, Disaster!Alec Lightwood, Elevators, Established Relationship, Excessive use of italics, Fluffy, Kissing in Elevators, M/M, Making Out, Mentions of Lorenzo Rey, Nervous Wreck!Alec Lightwood, Non-Explicit Sexual Content, POV Alec Lightwood, Silly, Simon is kind of adorable, Workplace AU, kind of???</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:16:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,581</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24689848</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bidness/pseuds/bidness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec's just trying to work, but that's easier said than done when all he can think about is his ex-boss Magnus Bane. Magnus, who happens to show up unexpectedly in his office in need of 'assistance'. It's even harder when he gets stuck in an elevator with said ex-boss and a whole lot of sexual tension.</p><p>or: Alec and Magnus get stuck in an elevator, and well, making out is the only conceivable thing to do while you wait. </p><p>Sequel (of sorts) to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23396422/chapters/56068024">11:45</a>!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>11:45 Universe [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720579</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>179</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Going Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey everyone!</p><p>Full transparency: I <i>really</i> just wanted an excuse to write these two making out in an elevator. That being said, I added some plot to it, and turned it into a (sort of) sequel to 11:45, so if you haven't read that and are looking for some backstory to this, click <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23396422/chapters/56068024">here!</a></p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><b>Thursday 9:13am </b> </p><p> </p><p>The monotonous click-clack of his fingers on the keyboard is almost enough to drive Alec out of his chair with a bored grunt, but he grips tight to the last strings of his determination to <em> get some fucking work done </em> and manages to stay put. </p><p> </p><p>It’s not that Alec necessarily <em> hates </em> his job... </p><p> </p><p>Okay, it’s exactly that. But at what point did the sounds of whirring computers and constant key flicks begin to grate on his mind and slowly drive him to push the limits of just how early he’s allowed to leave every day? </p><p> </p><p>Alright, alright, obviously he knows the answer to that too, and it is unquestionably Magnus. </p><p> </p><p>Magnus, with his artfully crafted hair that’s soft to the touch despite the amount of product it appears to be slathered in. Magnus, who styles himself in all the latest fashions for even the smallest events and non-events, Alec and Izzy’s apartment for a late-night dinner and binge-watching TV being no exception. Magnus, whose fingers curl gently around his wrist and keep him grounded when people ask how they got together, bringing out his dedicated research to finding every adjective possible to positively describe Alec’s slightly-above-average cooking skills. </p><p> </p><p>Even as Alec sits in front of his computer, fingers hovering uselessly above the old worn keyboard, he can feel the places on his skin where Magnus’ fingers gravitate to most. </p><p> </p><p>Well, okay, maybe not <em>all</em> the places, but certainly the most PG ones. </p><p> </p><p>And, oh god, now that his mind has brought forth images of Magnus’ hands on him, he can’t filter or stifle the appropriate ones from the <em> entirely inappropriate definitely not safe for work </em>ones. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck. </p><p> </p><p>No, that’s just making it worse! </p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” he mutters, shifting his chair forward slightly and forcibly shoving his face into his palms. This is why he can’t focus on work. As distracting as thoughts of Magnus were when he was two floors up, thoughts of him are even more distracting now that he’s not. </p><p> </p><p>There are footsteps across the room, thundering against the shabby carpet when they trip up and catch themselves – a tell-tale sign of Simon making his way over – and Alec only has a few mortifying seconds to get his body under control before he shows up. Thankfully the image of Simon attempting to saunter over coolly regardless of the fact that he’s clearly twisted his ankle or something makes the images of Magnus’ hands on him (and reactions to said thoughts) vanish rapidly. </p><p> </p><p>“Sup,” Simon tilts his chin up briefly and raises his eyebrows in a motion that’s meant to portray easy casualness. It doesn’t, though, because this is Simon and his glasses are disproportionately huge against his face, throwing his other features horribly off-balance. But he’s Alec’s <em> friend </em> now, so instead of glaring him away as he usually would, he does his best to mimic the movement in a sort of feigned camaraderie. </p><p> </p><p>It’s stilted and awkward, maybe more so than Simon’s attempt, but Alec’s the only one overthinking it because Simon is already speaking and he isn’t even listening.  </p><p> </p><p>“...casual of course, not a big deal or anything. Yeah?” </p><p> </p><p><em> There’s one of two ways this could play out, </em> Alec thinks to himself as he studies the way Simon pretends to seem indifferent to Alec’s response, as if the rigidity of his shoulders doesn’t give him away. Alec could disagree with Simon, could throw it out with practiced repetition because he’s used to letting Simon down. Or he could say yes, agree with whatever no-doubt horrible scenario or idea Simon has concocted, that will leave him unsurprisingly vexed.  </p><p> </p><p>Asking Simon for clarification, or to repeat himself is the logical answer of course, but Alec’s pride won’t allow it.  </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” he says, slow and calculating.  </p><p> </p><p>Simon’s eyes bug out, and it’s almost not an exaggeration to say he looks like a frog.  </p><p> </p><p>“R-Really? Like, for reals?” </p><p> </p><p>With a resigned slump of his shoulders, Alec nods and Simon lets out a whoop that catches the attention of most of their coworkers in the office, but he doesn’t seem to care. Alec sinks just a little lower into his seat. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s awesome, I’m so stoked you have no idea. Clary is so excited to meet you – Oh! Bring <em>Magnus</em>! Bring whoever you want! Dude, you are <em>not</em> gonna regret this!” </p><p> </p><p>He still has no idea what he’s agreed to, but Simon clearly underestimates Alec's ability to regret every interaction they have together, ever.  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>At 11:39 the soft buzzing of his phone alerts him to Magnus’ text, and he tries not to fling it across his desk in his eagerness for the distraction Magnus brings.  </p><p> </p><p><b> <em> Are you at work? </em> </b> </p><p> </p><p>Alec rolls his eyes and has half the mind to type out a detailed explanation of<em> exactly how </em> Magnus knows Alec’s at work, and why he thinks that Alec’s really going to believe the soft coo of “don’t go to work today” as he left Magnus’ bed didn’t get that point across. But Lydia turns a curious gaze to him at the noise of his phone as she walks by his cubicle and all he manages in his rush is: <b> Yes. </b> </p><p> </p><p><b> <em> Me too... </em> </b> </p><p> </p><p><b> Magnus, you don’t even have an office yet.  </b> </p><p> </p><p><b> <em> No, but I have yours. </em> </b> </p><p> </p><p>Alec’s brows furrow, and he rereads the message to try and garner some other interpretation of those particular words, but he comes up short each time. Magnus continues to send texts, and Alec’s eyes scan the screen in a rush as he reads them in quick succession. </p><p> </p><p><b> <em> And I have you. </em> </b> </p><p><b> <em> You look so good in that blue shirt you’re wearing, the one that I bought you. </em> </b> </p><p><b> <em> You look especially good in blue when I’m taking it off of you. </em> </b> </p><p><b> <em> Do you remember last week, when we watched that movie about dancing that </em> </b> <b> <em> we really </em> </b> <b> <em> didn’t watch at all? </em> </b> </p><p><b> <em> Do you remember the way I unbuttoned your shirt, and how I kissed my way down until you were a moaning mess on my couch?  </em> </b> </p><p><b> <em> Do you remember me on my knees for you, Alexander? </em> </b> </p><p><b> <em> Anyways, I’m at your office. I had to come give Lorenzo some files I had in my apartment and I figured I could take you out for lunch?  </em> </b> </p><p> </p><p>The loud click of the office door opening forces Alec to tear his eyes away from the phone that’s clutched tightly in his hands, and it’s only the worried glance from Lydia beside him that brings his attention to the fact that he’s breathing heavily.  </p><p> </p><p>But it doesn’t matter, not really, because it’s Magnus that walks through the door and into the office. Magnus – <em> his Magnus – </em>who commands the room without trying and pulls the focus from flickering computer screens and completely valid labored breathing to his dazzling presence with just the thrum of his energy filling the room.   </p><p> </p><p>Alec is not immune to his charm, and he knows that if he didn’t have an extra leg preventing him from standing, he’d be on his way over to Magnus right now. Instead, he’s confined to the increasingly uncomfortable computer chair, shifting to alleviate the pressure that only worsens with the sultry smirk Magnus offers him on his way to Catarina’s cubicle. </p><p> </p><p><em> Jesus, get a grip, Alec! </em> </p><p> </p><p>Curse his poor, overstimulated brain. He’d love a grip, <em> a specific grip in fact</em><em>, </em>belonging to the very same person whose eyes are intensely boring heat into the side of Alec’s face. </p><p> </p><p>What’s happened to him? He remembers the days when he would walk into the office with little care in the world besides the bills piling up on his kitchen counter at home, and Izzy’s safety as she walks home from work late at night. He was so unbothered by little things, because nobody <em> bothered </em> him. At work, Simon and Raj were always his biggest annoyances, but Raj is on a different floor and Simon’s his <em> friend </em> now, and that reality has shifted into annoyance at himself for being unable to focus or complete the simplest tasks without dithering about all day thinking about Magnus.  </p><p> </p><p>He was a hot mess before <em> someone </em> stole his lunch, but now he’s literally a hot mess because Magnus is walking over now and the room feels as though someone has cranked up the heat.  </p><p> </p><p>Alec scrambles with the post-it notes, pens, and files on his desk in his attempt to seem productive and unfazed by Magnus, accidentally slams his hand against the corner of the wood and winces in pain as he shakes it off. The amused face that meets his antics over the wall of his cubicle makes the room feel like a sauna. </p><p> </p><p>“Alexander,” Magnus smiles, and <em> god </em> he looks perfect as usual. </p><p> </p><p>“M - Mr. Bane.” </p><p> </p><p>Alec pretends not to notice the way that Magnus perks his brows, but he knows it’s fair because he’s literally never called Magnus <em> 'Mr. Bane’</em>. </p><p> </p><p>But then the surprised look on Magnus face transforms into something sly, as if he’s just had an idea and Alec gulps audibly at the implications. He knows that look, and his body can’t help but respond to everything Magnus, but sitting in his office at work is <em> definitely not the place</em>. </p><p> </p><p>“Would you be so inclined to escort me to Mr. Rey’s office? I find myself a bit turned around and in need of a guide.” </p><p> </p><p>The words come out with the perfect intonation of someone who is genuinely lost, and while Alec knows Magnus is toying with him, Lydia doesn’t. So when she begins to rise and offer her services, Alec can’t help the hurried jolt out of his chair and shaky “I got it!” </p><p> </p><p>It’s louder than he expects when his chair creaks and slams back into the wall of his space, and he knows that everyone in the office has turned to him in surprise, but the heat on his cheeks and neck can’t possibly grow any warmer. Resigned to be perpetually embarrassed for life and endlessly teased, he walks past Magnus with quick steps and a motion to follow. </p><p> </p><p>It’s not until they’re at the elevator that Magnus says anything, reaching a hand to turn Alec around and face him. “Hey,” he begins, ducking his head to make eye contact with Alec who is being impossibly stubborn. “Are you okay? You seem a little on-edge. I’m sorry if the text messages were too much, or if me being here is upsetting – “ </p><p> </p><p>“No!” Alec interrupts, and with a sigh he turns to check the room for prying eyes before slumping closer to Magnus. “It’s not the... <em> text messages,” </em> he whispers. “It’s just... I don’t know, you throw me off-balance. You always do.” </p><p> </p><p>The elevator dings and Magnus guides Alec in with a hand pressed to the small of his back. There’s a quick jab of his fingers to the floor number that Magnus clearly needed no assistance with, before he’s turning back to Alec. </p><p> </p><p>“I never want to make you feel that way,” Magnus says softly, and Alec wants to smooth the frown off of his face. “You’re just trying to work and here I am, playing games. I’m such an idiot.” </p><p> </p><p>It’s not often that Magnus says anything self-deprecating, but when he does Alec’s learned that the only thing to bring him out of his own shame spiral is a hefty distraction.  </p><p> </p><p>So he steps closer, keeps going until Magnus is pressed against the wall of the elevator, and tips his head down to bring their lips together. By all accounts it’s a soft kiss. It’s meant to be quick and sweet, and linger just enough to leave something to the imagination. </p><p> </p><p>But Magnus has other ideas. </p><p> </p><p>Fingers are curling into Alec’s hair, cool rings pressing against his scalp as Magnus pulls him closer, and he can’t help but oblige, can’t help the way he locks his arms around Magnus’ waist and holds him in place. <em> The elevator doors will open any time now</em>, he thinks to himself. They should, at least, because Magnus’ old office is only two floors above his and the trip has always only taken a few short seconds.  </p><p> </p><p>But time seems to slow with Magnus’ body against his, with his tongue searching Alec’s mouth and his lips a constant pressure. He can almost feel the slow trudge of the seconds passing by as he breathes in deeply the scent of Magnus’ cologne, masculine and familiar and doing nothing to ground him to reality.  Adrenaline spikes through him with lust a faithful follower, and the kiss becomes frantic quicker than he expects, Magnus’ hand on his shoulder sneaking its way down and untucking his shirt from his pants, pressing to the warm skin of his abdomen in success. </p><p> </p><p>There’s a groan that escapes one of them, lost in the space between their lips where their mouths are still connected, and Alec’s not sure who did it but he can’t be bothered to care. Not when Magnus is shifting a leg between his and using that hand on his stomach to grip his side and <em> tug</em>. </p><p> </p><p>When he does, it’s glorious and perfect. Fantastic even, and Alec almost forgets that they’re in the elevator at work and not the one that leads to Magnus’ apartment. It makes it hotter, if anything, and although Alec wants to feel ashamed, he can’t. He can’t, because Magnus is shifting against him in the most delicious ways and halting all thoughts or worries that aren’t focused on exactly him and the way he moves his body with Alec’s. It doesn’t matter that the doors will open any moment, that Andrew Underhill who replaced Maia upstairs as Mr. Rey’s receptionist will get an eyeful of two grown-ass adults making out in an elevator. </p><p> </p><p><em> Really</em>, the elevator should have opened by now, right? </p><p> </p><p>It takes every bit of resolution he can muster up to pull away from Magnus, to stop at just a few quick pecks as he breaks away. The soft indignant whimper and hooded eyes Magnus gives him as he stays up against the wall almost brings him back in, almost cracks his determination into a million pieces. But the fact that there’s been no noise or drop in his stomach from the elevator going up worries him. </p><p> </p><p>As much as he doesn’t want to be right about this, the elevator is seriously not working.  </p><p> </p><p>“Magnus we’re stuck,” he whispers, the dread chilling him immediately.  </p><p> </p><p>“We’re not anything, because you insist on being so far away from me right now,” Magnus mutters, and Alec hears the rustle of fabric as he smooths out his clothes. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m serious, the elevator isn’t working.” </p><p> </p><p>Magnus huffs behind him and steps forward, motioning with a wave of his hand at the buttons. “Just use the emergency call button. Did you try opening the doors?” </p><p> </p><p>Alec wants to roll his eyes because of <em> course </em> he tried that already, but stuck in an elevator with no way of escaping an equal parts sexually frustrated and annoyed Magnus Bane is not how he wants his life to end. </p><p> </p><p>They try several things, but none of them work and the doors don’t budge. He’s never been claustrophobic, but surprisingly the walls feel significantly closer than they did when he first stepped in. It’s stupid to worry; they’re in a building surrounded by people, and surely it won’t be long before someone realizes the elevator is broken. Right? Simon will notice he’s gone, won’t he? Lydia was the last person to talk to them, she’s smart and he can trust her to connect the dots when he doesn’t make it back for lunch. </p><p> </p><p>It’s a lot to take in, and the air that was thick with want only moments ago is now stifling and murky with gloom. </p><p> </p><p>It’s the soothing hand against his wrist that stops his mind from wandering, the calm expression on Magnus’ face as he leans up to press a kiss to Alec’s forehead with a whispered <em> 'we’re fine’ </em> that slows his breathing back down to normal. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll text Catarina and let her know.” </p><p> </p><p>Oh. Yeah. Cell phones exist. </p><p> </p><p>Alec thinks back to his phone, the one left on his desk that only holds numbers of the people he’s closest to – <em> and Simon </em> – and is thankful that Magnus is infinitely more helpful than he will ever be.  </p><p> </p><p>It’s quiet in the elevator without the grinding of gears and hum of energy in the control pad. Thankfully the lights are still on, but just barely more than a dim glow that Alec didn’t notice until now, because he was too distracted by Magnus. Magnus, staring up at him with the slow flicker of the light above them casting attractive shadows that make him look all the more mysterious and just as beautiful as when he basks in the sun outside on his balcony.  </p><p> </p><p>His grey striped blazer looks almost black as he shrugs it off and hangs it on the handle along the back wall of the elevator, his fingers nimbly undoing the top few buttons of his bright red shirt. The perfectly styled hair is mussed in all the ways that make Alec’s stomach twist with heat, and he has to force his mind out of the gutter because the image of Magnus with tousled hair and an unbuttoned shirt is too much right now. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s hot,” Magnus shrugs when he notices Alec’s attention, but he does nothing to hide the coy smile as he rolls up his sleeves. “We could be in here a while. You should probably unbutton your shirt, too.” </p><p> </p><p>It suddenly strikes Alec that Magnus is doing this on purpose. </p><p> </p><p>Two can play at this game. </p><p> </p><p>Alec steps away from the elevator doors to lean back against the wall he had pushed Magnus into earlier, crossing his arms and fixing Magnus with as solid a stare as he can muster, forcing down the sudden nerves because he <em> doesn’t do this</em>. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, <em> Mr. Bane.</em>” </p><p> </p><p>Magnus stills immediately, and Alec can’t stop the quirk of his lips when Magnus fixes him with a hot stare. “Why’s that?” </p><p> </p><p>“Because you’re my boss,” Alec states, and Magnus’ gaze turns wild. </p><p> </p><p>Everything happens in a rush, a tangle of limbs that are moving and touching everywhere and all over as Magnus slides up to Alec and throws them into an unceremonious kiss. It’s fervent and eager, everything they never could be in this building with all the fantasy of it being real. Magnus makes quick work of the buttons on Alec’s shirt, shoving it just past his shoulders before he splays his hands along the muscled chest underneath.  </p><p> </p><p>The way Magnus touches him always seems reverent, as though he can’t believe Alec is real in front of him, much the same way that Alec reciprocates in any attention he displays to Magnus. It makes Alec feel wanted, special, <em> worthy </em>to be desired like this.  </p><p> </p><p>“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” he finds himself mumbling into the humid air between them. Magnus’ eyes flicker up from Alec’s chest to lock eyes with him, a questioning smile gracing his features. </p><p> </p><p>“Would you have let me?” </p><p> </p><p>Alec’s first instinct is to say yes, one-hundred percent, <em> why didn’t you jump my bones? </em> </p><p> </p><p>But he knows the answer is a resounding no. There were so many nerves, so many what if’s back then, too much risk that would have outweighed the rewards if they were caught. Not to mention Alec’s near instant ability to freak out at any given moment. </p><p> </p><p>No, had Magnus cornered him in this elevator a few months ago, he would have surely passed out from hyperventilation. </p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Lightwood,” Magnus presses his lips to the bare skin of Alec’s shoulder, brushes them against him as he murmurs softly. “It’s awfully rude to leave your boss waiting.” </p><p> </p><p>Arousal blossoms low in Alec’s gut at Magnus’ words, fulfilling their every will and intent. And he doesn’t even care that Magnus is using his own trick against him, because hearing his last name come out of Magnus’ mouth like that, through the deep growl of his voice, sparks the desire in him to bring Magnus closer. </p><p> </p><p>So he does it with fingers that hook into the loops of Magnus’ pants, jostling him firmly and rougher than he normally would. If the chime of Magnus’ laughter and the way he wiggles closer is anything to go by, he definitely doesn’t mind. Further yet, any bit of doubt is swiftly removed when Magnus twists his body up against Alec’s in a motion that pulls a moan from both of them and causes Alec’s fingers to curl into the taut skin at Magnus’ hips. </p><p> </p><p>“This isn’t very appropriate, Mr. Bane,” Alec rasps out. “And neither was your question.” </p><p> </p><p>Magnus hums, and takes it upon himself to bite lightly at the spot of Alec’s shoulder that his lips hover over. “You didn’t seem to mind last night.” </p><p> </p><p><em> Fuck. </em> </p><p> </p><p>Alec groans and bucks his hips into Magnus at the attention, at the words and the feel of Magnus’ body heat and hot breaths mixing with his and warming up the small elevator room that’s very quickly becoming his favorite place in the office. There’s a pressure against his thigh, he can feel just how much this little role-play is affecting Magnus and Alec slides his fingers over to the fancy silver belt that keeps him from the buttons of Magnus’ pants, dips them just below the waistline to touch against the hidden skin. </p><p> </p><p>A loud bang startles them out of the moment, a crash of metal against the elevator doors and a frenzied cry that oddly resembles Simon’s voice. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry Alec, I’m gonna save you!” </p><p> </p><p>Wait – <em>shit – </em> that <em> is </em>Simon’s voice. </p><p> </p><p>Magnus buries his face against Alec’s chest with a disgruntled huff, and Alec’s responding moan this time isn’t one of pleasure. </p><p> </p><p>“Guys, can you hear me? Alec? Mr. Bane? Knock once for yes!” </p><p> </p><p>If there wasn’t a huge metal door between them, Alec would have already strangled Simon by now for being a massive cock-block.  </p><p> </p><p>But there is, so Alec knocks once. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank god,” he hears Simon gush. “We have plans tonight, he has to come out alive!” </p><p> </p><p><em> Curse you Simon Lewis and your misguided attempts at friendship. </em> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t take long for the fire department to arrive, and once Magnus and Alec are “rescued” from the broken elevator thoughts of steamy encounters have been banished from the forefront their minds. </p><p> </p><p>Simon makes the executive decision to put together <em> 'Get Well’ </em> baskets for them that consist of snacks from the vending machine, a few cans of soda, a makeshift card on printer paper, and a few crumpled dollar bills. It’s the thought that counts, and it counts out to exactly seven dollars. </p><p> </p><p>After the chaos of the afternoon, it’s a little after 1pm when Alec’s stomach grumbles in anger, having effectively missed lunch. Part of him wants to sneak off to the break room and eat the food he left for himself today, but he’s almost positive Simon already ate it and Magnus still probably wants to grab a bite. </p><p> </p><p>At the thought of his boyfriend, Alec’s eyes drift across the room where Magnus has firmly seated himself in Catarina’s computer chair. She's doting on him, fixing up his hair as he waves his hands through the air – a signal that he’s telling her a story. Her soft smile tugs at something in Alec’s chest, and the gratitude hits Alec at the fact that Magnus has someone like Catarina to keep an eye out for him, who will ward off potential bad influences to his life with just a glare. Someone Magnus trusts implicitly with the task of tending to his appearance which very few people have ever had the pleasure of. </p><p> </p><p>Although, Alec’s pleasure dips far more towards thoroughly disheveling that perfect appearance than fixing it up, but that’s not the point. Catarina is good for Magnus, and despite all the worries and fears he clung to in the past about her disregard for him, he’s grateful for their budding friendship as a result of his relationship with Magnus. </p><p> </p><p>As if she were a mind reader, Catarina turns her attention to Alec and the smile she offers him crinkles her kind eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck, if Alec Lightwood isn’t such a sap for everyone in this damn office, now. </p><p> </p><p>There’s a whisper shared between the two of them in her cubicle and a knowing look before Magnus is on his feet and smoothing the front of his blazer. It takes a few elegant strides for Magnus to reach Alec, and when he holds his palm out, Alec laces their fingers together on instinct. </p><p> </p><p>“I believe I promised you lunch, Alexander. What’ll it be?” </p><p> </p><p>Alec wants to suggest the taco truck, for old time’s sake, but then he takes in Magnus’ bright eyes, the re-styled coiffed hair and the vivid red of his shirt. Images of Magnus darkened by the shadows of the flickering elevator light, and memories of Magnus on his knees a week prior flood his mind and prickles sweat along his palms. There are altogether too many people in the office right now for his thoughts to remain unfiltered, so he tugs urgently on Magnus’ hand and reaches for his satchel that he slings high on his shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“Alec?” </p><p> </p><p>Once they’re outside the building, he turns on Magnus and pulls him in for a searing kiss that he hopes expresses all his frustrations with the day, and why he couldn’t voice them out loud. Magnus seems to understand completely, lets himself sink in and allows himself to follow Alec’s lips into the moment as he— </p><p> </p><p>“Oh,<em> hell </em>yeah!” </p><p> </p><p>It’s the homeless kid that always manages to harass Alec on his way home that interrupts them with a toothy grin that’s only half-filled, because <em> of fucking course</em>. </p><p> </p><p>Magnus seems nonplussed, doesn’t even bat an eye as he swipes a thumb along Alec’s hand. “What’s gotten into you, Mr. Lightwood?” He asks, dropping his voice to a low rumble that reverberates through the tiny shreds of Alec’s resolve to not attack Magnus in public.  </p><p> </p><p>“You,” he responds immediately, and then boldly adds: “Hopefully.” </p><p> </p><p>The way Magnus’ eyes darken isn’t hidden in the brightness of the sun. The grip on his hand tightens, and suddenly Alec is the one being tugged further from prying eyes and office buildings. “My apartment is closer.” </p><p> </p><p>Firefighters, elevators, and files for Mr. Rey are the furthest thing from Alec’s mind as they laugh and rush back to Magnus’ loft, fingers intertwined and hearts afloat. </p><p> </p><p>Simon calls an hour later wondering why they left their ‘Get Well’ baskets in the office, and wondering whether they’re still on for tonight. Alec tells him no, breathy and ragged, and Simon doesn’t understand, <em> never understands. </em>He continues to talk from his side, informing him that Mr. Santiago wants to know if he’ll be taking personal time for his distressing encounter with the elevator, and to that he responds with a flighty “Yes!”  </p><p> </p><p>But Simon still doesn’t stop, doesn’t notice the hitch in Alec’s throat for what it truly is instead of the anguish of his near-death experience that Simon takes it as. He goes on, in fact, about how scared he was for Alec’s life, how he would never have forgiven himself if he didn’t do everything in his power to save <em> Magnus Bane</em>, and that’s when Alec ends the call with a promise to text him later to reschedule. </p><p> </p><p>He’s in a very important meeting with Mr. Bane, after all. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You can follow my <a href="https://bidnezz.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a> and say hi if you want, send me prompts, look at my mediocre art, or if you just want to see a gratuitous amount of Alec Lightwood gifs!</p><p>Leave a kudos/comment if you liked it, let me know if you'd like to see more! I love writing these two!</p><p>Thank you for reading!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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